


Off Brand FutureLife

by HoneyPeppermintTea



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - No Androids (Detroit: Become Human), Angry Gavin Reed, Angst, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Attempted Murder, Case Fic, Cat Lover Gavin Reed, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Genderbending, Heavy Angst, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Kidnapping, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Touch-Starved Gavin Reed, Tsundere Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyPeppermintTea/pseuds/HoneyPeppermintTea
Summary: With Connor missing, FutureLife has no choice but to deploy their last- and most advanced- genetically enhanced super Human, Project RK900.Originally raised for quick missions, RK900 must learn how to socialize along side Detective Gwen Reed.However, as tension rises, something sinister is unveiled and the Disaster Pair must learn how to work together and solve the case.





	Off Brand FutureLife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I can finish a fic this time. Anyways, here's some fluffy genderbent Reed900 that we all need in our lives rn. Only Gavin and RK900 are genderbent in this btw.
> 
> Please follow me at @obsessedjohndavekatshipper on insta for more uodates!

The first thing that a little girl felt when she gained consciousness was something heavy pressing her tiny body against the cold metal surface beneath her. She could feel wires and tubes forcefully squeezing viscous liquids into her body. She wanted to throw up.   
  
“Open your eyes, RK900,” a calming voice called. Was that her name? RK900?   
  
Obediently, she fluttered her eyes open. In front of RK900, was a woman dressed in white and had her black box braided hair pulled into neat buns along the back of her head. She reached out and helped RK900 into a sitting position. She was situated in a steel plated room with desks and papers scattered about. RK900 was sat on one of the desks, however, it seemed more like an operating table than a desk.   
  
“My name is Amanda Stern,” she greeted, smiling warmly, “I'm going to teach you everything you need to learn and make you a very strong girl. Do you want that?”   
  
RK900 nodded slowly. Amanda's smile grew a little more.   
  
“We're going to run some tests to make sure that everything is alright. Then, we can get straight to work.”   
  
Amanda pulled away and sat down on a chair nearby. Next to her was a person in a white lab coat and a black coloured dress. Her eyes were a ghostly blue behind a pair of glasses. She had freckles splattered across her face that matched well with the mess of brown atop her head.  She sat so still and quietly that RK900 had not realised her presence until then. The woman felt significant but RK900 could not place her finger on it.   
  
The woman ran some tests and jotted down the results on a notepad. Eventually, the two women helped Nine Hundred from her metal bed and made her stand on her own two feet. Her feet were wobbly at first but she managed to stand up straight. She took her first step. Then another. It was only when the distant memory of the action kicked in had she started to walk properly. She took unsure but stable steps.   
  
Amanda stopped her before she could go any further and carried her back to the metal table.   
  
“Do you remember anything before this?” She asked.   
  
Nine Hundred thought for a moment, resting her head between her index finger and thumb before looking up again and shaking her head. The woman in the lab coat nodded and said something about the procedure being a success.   
  
Before she could ask what she meant by that, they handed her a plastic disk. It was mostly purple. The purple plastic curled around a reflective surface, holding it in place.   
  
A mirror.   
  
She stared into the reflective surface. A girl with a mop of curly brown hair, grey-blue eyes similar to that of the woman in the lab coat. The girl's neck was distorted, an angry red mess that was pulled and puckered in strange ways. RK900 pulled her hand up to the neck- her neck- and trailed the ugly patterns gingerly.   
  
“That's you in the mirror,” Amanda informed her, tapping on the mirror, “That's your neck. We did not have time to finish your stabilization process. You are… incomplete, hence the deformed neck. You're lucky that you even made it out alive…”   
  
Incomplete. She hated that word for some reason. It made her feel bad.   
  
Amanda handed her a small jacket from one of the desks. It had a high collar and would perfectly hide her scar. “Never let anyone see or touch your neck. They will take advantage of your weakness and hurt you.”   
  
Nine Hundred nodded solemnly and pulled the jacket on, lips pulled into a thin line.   
  
“However, you have strengths to outweigh your weakness,” Amanda continued, “You are faster, stronger, more resilient than most humans. You will be taught with the highest quality of education. You will not fail.”

  
-   
  
Nine Hundred laid tiredly on her clothes pile on top of her metal bed. She was in a room plated with steel panels, a single light bulb hanging from the centre and a toilet bowl and sink in the corner. It was her designated room.   
  
She had just finished training so she was totally exhausted and felt like she was going to fall apart. Bruises dotted her body from the falls she took and the sharp corners that met her tiny body. However, she knew it was all worth the effort and pain because she was becoming a very strong girl. Just like Amanda had promised.   
  
Tired eyes were about to flutter close when the door to her room opened up. It was Amanda. Nine Hundred sat up giddily and raised a quizzical eyebrow.   
  
“Come with me, Nine Hundred,” Amanda offered her hand. Hopping down from her bed, Nine Hundred went to take her hand obediently. The two walked out, taking a path that took them in the opposite direction of the testing grounds. Slowly, she started to see people. Not just the scientists that she saw regularly. They were smiling, relaxed. It was a great contrast from the frowns and the tight smiles that the scientists and Amanda gave Nine Hundred. Subconsciously, she had tried to stop and observe in awe, but Amanda pulled her along.   
  
At the end of the hallway was a white door. Nine Hundred looked up expectantly at the older woman, confusion on her face. Amanda crouched down to her level, face professional but tone kind and gentle. “Nine Hundred, you are going to meet your older brother, RK800 or… Connor.”   
  
The little girl hated meeting new people, they always hurt her. However, she knew that if she protested, she would be ignored or reprimanded. Even a sour expression would get her into hot water. So, she pulled her lips into a thin line instead, nodding stiffly.   
  
Amanda got back up and opened the door.   
  
The room was painted and tiled white just like the corridors. Three of the walls were covered with shelves, colourful books lining them while the wall on the left was embedded with a mirror. In the middle was a dark blue mat with pretty patterns and colourful objects all over it. In the centre of it all, a pretty boy sat. Besides the brown doe eyes, shorter hair and freckles, he looked identical to Nine Hundred.   
  
He stared at her with curiosity and surprise. Nine Hundred tugged  the lapels of her jacket to her chin self consciously. Then, the boy's lips turned up to a smile. It was warm. Nothing like the empty reassuring ones the scientists gave her. It was as if he was happy to see her.   
  
The boy looked up at Amanda, schooling his expression back to a careful neutral. He asked if this was his sister, Nine Hundred, and Amanda nodded.   
  
He scrambled up from where he was sat cross legged and maneuvered his way around the colourful objects. Nine Hundred flinched and stumbled back, startled by the sudden movement. The boy grabbed her hand and yanked her into the room, wide smile splitting his dotted face. Nine Hundred did not attempt to wrench her hand free or resist. She knew she could knock out the boy  if she needed. He was far too lanky to pose a threat to her. Despite that, she found that she could not still her heart. Perhaps it was the potential danger the boy posed.   
  
RK800 yanked her to the ground with surprising strength, smile still bright. However, it fell when he saw his sister's face. He loosened his grip on the girl, soft hands rubbing patterns on her scarred and calloused ones. “It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you.” He spoke with a pleasant lilt.   
  
Nine Hundred was confused. She knew she wore a neutral expression. She was very good at it. Even the adults were fooled. How did he see through her?   
  
As she attempted to theorize on how he did that, her mind always wandered back to the patterns traced on her hands. It was… calming. It called for attention without being unpleasant. Eventually, she gave up on trying to figure it out. Eerily, the boy stopped the action and smiled, this time more relaxed. It was as if he had read her mind.   
  
RK800 introduced himself gently. It helped her calm down a little more.   
  
“RK800,” she nodded sharply as an acknowledgement.   
  
Connor frowned and shook his head. He asked her to call him Connor. He had always prefered that name more. Nine Hundred nodded again, but then frowned. “Connor, how did you know I was upset.”   
  
The boy blossomed into an excited smile again and the next thing she knew, the two had talked for hours about micro expressions and how to read people.  She learnt that most of Connor's lessons had more to do with human behaviour and detective work while hers had leaned more to martial arts and academics. She was sure they were building up to human behaviour, but she guessed her martial arts training took priority.   
  
“You're very strong, Nines!” Connor squealed at one point as he admired her more muscular frame. “Your arms are so huge!”   
  
She furrowed her brows and asked the boy about the name. There was no one else in the room, he was clearly referring to her, and ‘Nines’ sounded similar to her designation. Connor giggled and shook his head fondly.   
  
“That's what you call a nickname,” he explained, “Nine Hundred or RK900 is too long and boring, so I'm gonna call you something short and sweet.”   
  
Nines.   
  
She liked it.   
  
When it was time to go, the two separated reluctantly- well Connor did while Nines (she had a nickname!) tried not to show it. However, after Amanda had promised to bring her back for more visits, Connor seemed less resistant to the girl leaving. It was weird to see the woman treat Connor with more kindness while she was treated harshly. A weird feeling bubbled up her chest. It was bitter and hot.   
  


They bid each other goodbye and Nines returned to her room. The cold and dark, steel plated room. She was alone again. Instantly, she missed Connor.   
  
She wondered distantly about what Connor had said about his lessons. He had other people to look forward to seeing- ‘classmates’ he said- while Nines was alone. Always alone. Sure, she had those scientists, but they were more like background noise than people. Even when they made conversation with each other, she was more of an object, or perhaps a weapon, than a  _ Nines _ . Connor was different. He talked to her like she was a person, like her existence mattered.   
  
‘I'm not alone anymore,’ she thought herself. Now, she had an older brother. The little girl smiled to herself as she curled up on her cloth pile. She was not alone anymore.   
  
-   
  
It was Amanda and not the woman with her blue eyes- her handler as Amanda had called her- opened the door that fateful day. Nines was confused for a moment. Amanda only ever picked her up when they had something  _ special  _ in mind. When she got down from her bed and asked her if there was not going to be training today, Amanda shook her head and told her that her handler was busy setting up a surprise.   
  
Nines hummed and followed Amanda without asking more questions. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something akin to dread. Nine Hundred learnt to trust that feeling after the tests had began. Now, that feeling was so intense that it made her squirm under it.   
  
When they got to the lab, Amanda had put her in that familiar white room and went off. The little girl presumed that due went to the observation room where her handler was most probably in. The test room was now decorated with obstacles and puzzles. It was something she was familiar with but she had never seen it this complex before. From what she could see, there were the usual blocks to jump across, basic screen pads to hack, ropes to climb up, zip wires and simple traps for her to dance around.   
  
“Hello, subject RK900,” a familiar voice called from the PA system, “Today marks a special day. You will be taking an exam to measure your abilities you have acquired so far. This obstacle course will be very similar to what you will face in the future, so it is very important that you pass this examination. There will also be a surprise at the end for you.”   
  
Nine Hundred nodded and stretched as she heard a countdown play in the background. Then, she was off.   
  
Taking a few steps back, she ran up and jumped onto the first block in front of her which was twice her size. She jumped onto the next block then the next. She zipped from one point to another on a rope with her jacket. Climbing and sliding down poles, she finally made it to the end.   
  
From the platform she was squatted on, she spotted a small white animal with  long whiskers and a long tail that snapped back and forth. It glared at Nine Hundred with slitted green eyes and hissed at her. She had seen a similar animal in a picture book before. It was probably a cat or perhaps her kitten due to its small size. It’s bloody slender legs were chained up and held it firmly in place on top of  a white block. In front of it was a gun.   
  
Hopping down with a muted thud, Nines cautiously ambled to the frightened creature. She looked around for a camera and spotted one. Knitting her eyebrows, she asked what she was supposed to do with the ‘surprise’. Was it a new friend?   
  
There was a tense silence before the PA system hissed to life. “No, please shoot the cat, Nine Hundred.”   
  
Nines’ eyes widened comically. She shook her head yelling out a terrified ‘no’.   
  
Her handler was having none of it. Coldly, she instructed her to finish the job or Nine Hundred would regret her decision dearly. Nine Hundred immediately bit her tongue to prevent herself from talking back. She turned back to the cat who was still hissing furiously.   
  
Taking a deep breath and putting on a look of indifference, she took slow, menacing steps towards the cat. It was something that she had picked up from her handler. The woman had always did that before she would inflict pain upon the young girl.   
  
The animal sensed the change in mood and quietened immediately, ears pressing onto the sides of its head  and tail between its legs. It attempted to back away but the chains held it in place. It let out petrified mewls as it cowered away from the girl. Nines’ heart broke.

  
“I'm sorry,” she whispered as she picked up the gun. She pressed the gun against the cat's face before hesitating. She closed her eyes.   
  
She pulled the trigger.   


A  deafening bang.

  
The mewls stopped.

  
Nines turned on her heel, her knees giving up on her as she did. She curled up into a tight ball, letting out a shuddering breath. She pressed her back against the white block, using it as support her little quaking body.   
  
A warm liquid trickled down her back. For a moment, she did not know what that was. However, when the familiar smell of copper filled her nose, she startled away from the block and let out a whimper.   
  
The corpse laid on the stained surface, unmoving. Blood trickled down from the cat’s forehead.   


Nine’s breath was laboured while the room spun around her. She heard someone speak on the PA system but everything was muffled. It was as if someone had stuffed her head with cotton.Pathetic whimpers forced its way out of her.

  
The next few minutes were a blur. Whether they were minutes or hours, Nine Hundred did not know.   
  
Heels clicking on tiles, hands touching her, white hallways and bookshelves.   
  
Then she registered warm arms curled around her. A familiar scent of metal, books and cinnamon. Someone whom Nines knew. She curled up into that person's arms. They whispered soothing words into her ears, running a hand through her hair. she could not hear what they were saying but appreciated the sentiments anyway.    


When she had regained her senses, she looked up.   
  
It was Connor. His brown doe eyes wrinkled in concentration and freckled cheeks were pulled up in a smile. He pulled away and she missed the warmth immediately.   
  
“Hello, Nines,” Connor said, patting her head, “how are you feeling?”   
  
Nines nodded numbly, blinking away the… tears? She had not realised she was crying. When Connor frowned and asked what happened, it just made the tears fall faster.   


“Take your time... or you could just not tell m-”

  
“There was a cat,” she choked out, “They- they ma-made me k-kill it.”Nines crumpled back into her brother's arms, shaking with tears.   
  
“You're okay,” the boy whispered, cradling her hands in his arms again, “I'm here, you aren't alone.”   
  
She was not alone.

The day after that, it had been about the same thing. Amanda had picked her up and had lead her to the observation room then took a seat to observe what would happen. However, this time, her handler had prepared something.

“A gift,” she pointed to the box of delicious smelling brown squares, “If you finish your mission this time, I will give you this and allow you more time with Connor.”   


Nines scowled at the woman, “You can't make me kill something for a treat.”

Her handler grumbled about  having to deal with children even though she was a scientist and something else about Nines being a huge brat. Nines had to bite back the rebuttal on the tip of her tongue. She was far too stressed about what she was being coerced into doing  _ that _ again.

Before Nines had a chance to scan the room for possible excuses, Amanda stood up. She stalked towards Nines like a jungle cat world towards its prey . The kind glow that used to radiate from her had disappeared, giving way to something dark and  dangerous.

Nines flinched involuntarily when the older woman crouched in front of her. Amanda stared down at her, unreadable. Somehow, that scared her even more than the pure rage and annoyance her handler gave off. Speaking of whom, Nines could see from her peripheral view that even she had backed away from the woman in white.

“Nine Hundred, you are but an asset. Many children are fighting for where you are now. They have it much worse, did you know that?” She murmured to the girl in a low and dangerous tone, “If you give me any more reasons to replace you with them, I will not hesitate. Do I make myself clear?”

Nines opened her mouth to protest but before she could utter a word, Amanda was already making her way out the door. “Follow me, Nine Hundred.”

Sensing she was probably already in big trouble, she hurried after Amanda to not keep her from waiting.

They went through long corridors and past many rooms. The atmosphere started to become thick and heavy with smoke and tension. Nines had to hold her breath to stop herself from coughing too much. Finally, they stopped in front of an open entrance. The pair went in.

Inside was a gloomy factory. Cold, dull, grey and unforgiving. It vaguely reminded her of the blue eyes her handler had. People of all ages were hunched around piles of broken technology. They fixed it diligently, not making a sound. The only thing Nines could hear was the muffled clang of metal hitting metal or things being moved about. No signs of life. No chatter.

“This is the room for… the children who are difficult,” Amanda said, frightening Nines with the sudden break of silence. She pointed to a room off to the side, “Over there is the room where we wipe their memories. Slowly, this process breaks them and molds them into something more obedient. Lifeless machines who never question things and do as they're told.”

Amanda pinned her down again with a cold stare from the corner of her eyes, “Do you want that, Nines?”

Nines quickly shook her head, lips pursed in fear.

“Very good,” Amanda turned away and started for the exit, “let's not waste anymore time.”

When the two had returned to the lab, her handler had prepared for her something new. Well… not just her handler this time. A boy that had to be around Nines’ age was standing in the middle of the training room. He was dressed in dirty rags and held a fearful look in his eyes. The boy was bald, doing nothing to hide the ugly scars along his face.

“Nines,” she acknowledged coldly, “I believe that Amanda has put some sense into you and since you have wasted so much time-” she pointed at the boy, “-you will have to move on to the next step of your training. Subject HS413 will be your new target.”

Nines let out a shuddering breath and scanned the boy as if he could somehow help her form a plan telepathically. However, he refused to even look at her directly.

“That's one of the subjects that refuses to forget and be remolded,” Amanda explained, “We have no use for them anymore, so they are repurposed for training.”

Dragging her gaze away from the pitiful sight, Nines assumed a battle stance. Low and yet managing to feign being relaxed. It was second nature for her at this point.

However, before they could signal for them to begin, HS413 made  a mad dash towards the exit.

Nines sprang into action and chased after him. Well, it was more like she took two big steps before pouncing on him. He squirmed under her weight, fighting to break free. All that stopped when two pale hands went to his neck.

He snapped his gaze up at her, shock, fear, sadness and hopelessness all in one look. It made her heart sink.

“Please,” he pleaded softly, “You don't have to listen to them. You can escape with me-”

The boy reduced to strangled gasps and desperate clawing at his neck as Nines pressed the heels of her palms down on his throat.

Soon, it was all over.

HS413 was at peace.

 

-   
  
It had been a few weeks after her first two kills. Slowly, it had become easier and easier to put the targets out of their misery. Nines started to need Connor to console her less and less. However, when they let her victim run free around the course, she felt a little shaken. The fear in their eyes and how desperate they were to get away still made her stomach drop. However, her qualms were forgotten when her handler threatened to call Amanda.   
  
Her eyes became cold and distant, matching her handler's eyes. Steel grey-blue eyes that would only melt when she saw her Connor. She ignored her emotions and carried out orders without hesitation. Her accrued attitude that conflicted with Connor's overly curious nature. Her body also became more refined and tougher than Connor's. She looked more like a soldier than child. Nines had even started to grow taller than her brother.   
  
Before she had left to go visit Connor, her handler had mentioned that she would go to something called a ‘class’ that day She had heard that word from her brother several times but she still did not know what that was. When Nines had asked her about it, she told her to bother Connor about it instead of her.   
  
Right after Connor had talked about his day, she brought up the topic. The boy instant brightened up. He started to rant about how nice it was. She would be able to make new friends, draw and read books.

  
He described the place to be similar to the one they sat in now. He looked to happy for her which calmed her nerves down. A part of her even felt excited.   
  
After talking a little more, her handler came to pick her up. Nines went with her, waving a goodbye to Connor and offering him a smile. He nodded reassuringly before she turned back to the woman.   
  
There was a subtle skip in her step as she followed her handler took her to the classroom. It was something she had never done before so she guessed that she probably picked it up from Connor.   
  
As they went on, the white hallways degraded to that of steel plating that Nines was more than familiar with. Doors became more frequent and less colourful. Nothing like Connor had described. They stopped in front of a door. It was as plain and grey as the other doors. A copper sign was nailed onto the door. It read “Class 52”.   
  
Her handler turned to her, the permanent frown on her features deepening. “Remember what we told you about your neck. Make sure to not let anyone touch it or see it.”   
  
She did not bother with Nines’ response, she yanked the door open and shoved the girl inside. Nines blinked in surprise.   
  
Class 52 was nothing like what Connor had described at all. It was nothing like his designated room either. It was painted grey and had rows of desks that were a little too neat. The desks and chairs were made of sturdy plastic and aluminum that she were coloured a light grey and black. The teacher's desk in front was the same. Students her age sat stiffly in their seats, not talking or wandering about while they waited for their teacher. Hands folded neatly on their laps and backs as straight as a ruler.There were about forty desks in total.   
  
Making as little noise as possible, Nines took a seat in the strategic seat located in the middle row and third column.  Close enough to see the whiteboard but far enough from the teacher's desk to avoid being targeted with questions.   
  
Students filed in one by one, their handlers looking relieved once they were out of their hands. They were quite different compared to Nines. They did not have her cold eyes and seemed to radiate fear as apposed to the intimidating aura she possessed. Their warm eyes held emotion… they held something akin to Connor’s, something she had lost.   
  
Eventually, their teacher came in. He had black hair pulled into a tight bun and wore white clothes similar to Amanda's. He handed out worksheets and got straight to work.   
  
The next few hours went like that, the teacher droning on about things she had already learnt from Connor or Amanda. Nines looked around her but the other students were either concentrated on their work or looked lost and afraid. Nines did not understand why they were so confused. It was easy enough for her to understand. Why was it so hard for others to get it? She guessed she was simply superior compared to other students.   
  
Half way through the lesson, their teacher took them to a large room filled with benches and long tables. Each table had a trays with meals spaced out evenly. Other children were already there, a mixture of sizes and ages. The oldest group were probably a little older than Connor. Guards stood attentive, lined along the edges of the room. This was probably the canteen that Connor had described.   
  
They ate in tense silence before their teacher herded them back to their class to  resume their lessons.   
  
Their handers came back and picked them up after he had concluded the lesson. All of them left as quietly and orderly as they had came in. It was probably a mixture of the fear of being punished and the exhaustion from the lesson.   
  
That night when Nines her head met clothes pile, she fell asleep.   
  
The next day, she planned to ask Connor about it. However, it seemed that the boy had something more exciting than school on his mind.   
  
“Nines!” He cried out when he saw the young girl in the doorway. He came bounding towards her, his goofy grin on his face.   
  
Connor pulled them to the middle of the room and somehow managed to smile even brighter. He did not let go of Nines’ arms when they sat down. “I'll be getting a job in the Outside in a few years! I'm going to be a detective!”   
  
Nines tilted her head, “Is that soon? When will you come back?”   
  
Connor hummed, excitement dying down making Nines worry,  “No, not really and I think I can only visit on the weekends.”   
  
She did not really understand the concept of days outside of her sleep cycle. Her life was a blur and she had no clue on how long weekdays would feel.   
  
“But don't worry, Nines!” Connor wrenched her out of her thoughts, “I'll always come back to you!”   
  
Nines grimaced and gave him a half hearted threat.   
  
The next few days went similarly. Train, meet Connor, class, sleep, rinse, repeat. They passed by without much incident and was pretty boring.   
  
However, one day when they were in the canteen, one of the older students started a ruckus. They started screaming about being treated unfairly compared to the other students here. They demanded to be treated fairly. However, before they could finish their rant, a few guards sprang into action and pinned the teen to the ground.   
  
The student kicked and screamed while they were hauled away. The canteen remained silent but there was a new tension in the air. Something even worse than the nervous energy that they were accustomed to.   
  
When the class had returned to the classroom, their teacher looked strained and tired. Nobody uttered a words but the question hung in the air.   
  
“That hooligan was what we call a ‘deserter’,” he began, massaging his temples, “they abandon their mission and disregard their protocols for trivial feelings.”   
  
He turned to the class, glaring at each of them with an intensity that almost rivaled that of her handler's. Almost. “For your own sake, none of you reduce to their state.”   
  
-   
  
Connor visits dwindled when he went to his job. To the Outside.   
  
She started to have more rest time in between training and classes but they felt unproductive and empty. She missed Connor a lot, especially when he came back with exciting stories of the Outside or when training was tough. He missed those bright doe eyes shining brighter than the cheap fluorescent light of her room.   
  
Nines secretly loved it when he spoke about Lt Hank Anderson and his adorable dog. He also talked about a detective named Gwen Reed that annoyed her with his childish prejudice and jealousy. She was annoyed by her stupid attempts at rivaling Connor and antics that suited toddlers more than woman her age.   
  
Eventually, Nines got used to not having Connor around. Sure, she started to lose the remaining joy in her personality, but it helped her concentrate on her studies.   
  
However, she needed to vent her frustrations out. So, she targeted the one who caused most of it.   
  
At first, she started to take on a rude tone like her handler. Nines got a kick out of it when she saw her shocked face when she got too far. Of course, when her snark crossed the line, training got worse. Connor always fussed over her when she returned in a cast or littered in bruises- which he had no place in judging due to his matching injuries. He wanted her to stop but she argued that it was the only fun coping method she had. He always frowned at that but left the argument there.   
  
One day, Connor stopped coming.   
  
She was confused when her handler had not picked her up. Perhaps the boy had injured himself too much to be visited. He had  **_very_ ** low self preservation skills after all.   
  
When her handler came to pick her up for class, she asked what had happened to Connor. She simply said that he was missing. When Nines attempted to squeeze more answers out of her, she simply shot her a dangerous glare that shut her up.   
  
It had been many weeks after Connor's disappearance and Nines grew more stressed by each day. She fought more frequently with her handler and started to delay the deaths of her victims. Their squirming gave her morbid  joy. Despite that, when she spotted brown eyes on her victims, a part of her imagined Connor somewhere dying slowly but she quickly shook her head of that thought.   
  
One day, on a day that she was supposed to meet Connor, Amanda came in holding a folder. She shot up from her clothes pile and stared at her expectantly. She had not seen Amanda for a long time, so she was sure that it was something important if it warranted her visit.   
  
She handed the folder to Nines and she took it quickly. She scanned through them, recognising her brother's neat yet cursive handwriting. The folder was full of mission reports. From his first one to his latest.   
  
When Nines looked up, Amanda shot her  a sympathetic look. “Your brother has become is deserter.”   
  
“What?”   
  
Amanda moved further into the room, gliding smoothly like a ghost.   
  
“I believe that you have seen what a deserter is, have you not,” she asked, sitting down on the metal bed, pointedly not sitting on the old clothes, “Well, Connor has become one now. He has abandoned his mission for a foolish reason.”

Nines knitted her brows. She shook her head. No. Connor was not like  _ that. _ He was a good and loyal person. He always stuck to the mission. This had to be some test they were putting her through. Yeah. That has to be it. Steeling herself, she nodded.

Amanda smiled, lips pulled into a thin line. She handed Nines the folder, explaining that all the mission reports and notes were inside.

“I understand that you were not trained to handle Connor's job, however, we are running out of options,” Amanda continued solemnly, “We will train you on the basics, but we do not have time to teach you everything. However, we trust your adaptability skills..”

Oh. So they were testing her adaptability and her emotional stability. She could do that.

Amanda nodded, “Make us proud.”

She knew. At the back of her mind, she knew. Amanda was telling the truth. All the signs were there. Somehow, her brain outright refused to acknowledge it. Even her insides seemed to shrivel up when Nines attempted to think about what had happened.

It was after a gruesome training, Nines cleaning blood of some little girl and guts of a small rabbit alone in a musty bathroom, did she finally register what had truly occured.

Her knees buckled under her, her wary body collapsing onto the toilet bowl.

Nines drew in a shuddered breath, attempting to haul herself back from her unsteady state. She tried to push herself up but she fell back down.

Something warm trailed down her cheek. Nines swiped at it, annoyed that she was probably bleeding again.

They kept coming.

Warm trails flowed down her cheeks freely, wet breaths forcing its way out of her mouth as her chest heaved and shook. Nines-  _ no. She would not use that nickname anymore-  _ swiped at the liquid again.

The substance was mostly clear. Specks of dried blood decorated the liquid in a grotesque imitation of snowflakes.

_ Oh _ .   


Nine Hundred was crying.   
  


 

 

* * *

  
RK900 glared down at the folder of reports like if she stared hard enough, the thing would disappear and everything would go back to normal.   
  
She stood in front of gates luggage at her feet. Above her read a sign ‘'FutureLife School’. Expensive cars rolled by occasionally but she ignored it to mull over her thoughts. Nine Hundred had never been so far away from any of her rooms before but her mind simply refused to acknowledge anything other than the folder. She was so close to the freedom she yearned for yet she could not care less.   
  
“Nine Hundred,” a voice called, snapping her out of her thoughts, “have you finished studied the reports?”   
  
Nine Hundred nodded sharply, trying to hide her scowl. Amanda stood in before of her, hands clasped in front of her professionally. She wore her usual white clothes that were ironed to perfection and had pulled her box braids into neat buns behind her head. The woman asked what the girl thought about it and studied the girl, no doubt taking note of all her micro expressions.   
  
“Initially, his reports about the perps and deserters are methodical and get straight to the point.” She handed the folder back to the woman, not wanting to keep contact with it longer than she had to. “However, they seem to slowly get muddled with emotions and pointless sympathizing. The deserters corrupted his mind, Miss.”   
  
Amanda nodded solemnly. “I had sensed that your brother had started to deviate from the mission when I sent him outside. I had made a miscalculation to trust him with it.”   
  
Nine Hundred shook her head, telling her that she could not have known. The deserters were very convincing after all. They had silver tongues and minds full of lies they tell themselves. Amanda hummed in thought before her eyes flickered over to Nine Hundred's.   
  
Coldly, she asked whether she would make the same mistake. Nine Hundred shook her head, determination behind her neutral expression. She would not disappoint like her brother had.   
  
Before Amanda could attempt on interrogating the girl any further, an auto taxi pulled up in front of them. Amanda glanced between Nine Hundred and the vehicle, thinking of what to say next.   
  
“It's your first time outside of our school.” She paused, staring at the young woman seriously. “You were not trained properly for this, nor will you have the liberty to finish your mission freely since the Captain of the Police Station insisted on you having a partner due to protocols. But, you must not fail us.”   
  
Nine Hundred gave her a curt nod and entered the taxi. She closed her eyes, exhaling sharply as she allowed her body to relax. She pulled out the handphone that her handler had given her earlier. It had all the files that she needed to complete her mission on it.

The partner that she would be assigned to was highlighted in red with a star beside it.  _ Gwen Reed _ . Nine Hundred felt that she had heard that name somewhere before. It was weirdly familiar-

_ Oh. _

This was going to be very interesting.

Her brain registered the name belonging to the woman that Connor had mentioned. From what she could remember, the woman was hot headed and rash. The only reason why she still had her position was because she was an unexpectedly good detective.

How ironic that she was going to be paired up with her broth- predecessor's tormentor.

Nine Hundred scanned through the file, soaking up every detail before the obnoxious beeping of the car pulled her out of her theorizing. It indicated that they had arrived at their stop. She huffed as she got out. She wanted to see the Outside as she travelled but she guessed she would have to do it another time.   
  
Detroit Central Police Station. The sign glared at her as she entered the building.   
  
There were already so many people around that she did not know or recognise. Nine Hundred knew it was going to be like this from what Connor had told her, but she had not anticipated it to be this overwhelming.   
  
As she walked by, people stared at her. Some curious, some hostile. She tugged up her collar self consciously. She was out of place. Nine Hundred was wearing her school uniform, a standard white and black jacket with a blue armband over a black turtleneck with pair of dress pants. Her long hair was pulled into a bun and her face painted with light makeup. Her rigid posture and almost mechanical movements- something she picked up from the guards in the canteen- just made her stand out more as she towered over the passersby.   
  
Entering the station as she pointedly ignored the people around her, she went up to the front desk.   
  
“Hello, I my name Nine Hundred,” she introduced herself to the receptionist, “I'm the student sent by FutureLife.. I have an appointment with Captain Fowler.”   
  
The receptionist gave her a look and nodded, gesturing to the glass doors leading to the station. Nine Hundred gave her a polite nod before heading inside.   
  
The bullpen was mostly quiet. Since it was already afternoon, the majority of the officers were already out on patrol or working on cases. A few officers mulled about, sleep deprived and tapping away on keyboards and screens.   
  
Nine Hundred spotted the captain's glass office- which had been tainted black. She started to make her way to it before a loud 'what the fuck’ made her pause. She turned to see a woman with a scar on her nose wearing a leather hoodie-jacket over a v-neck and a pair of jeans. She nodded in greeting, turning to her fully, “Detective Gwen Reed.”   
  
“You're not Connor,” she stated dumbly, shock still evident on her face.   
  
“I am not Connor,” she echoed back. Her cold blue eyes bore into the Detective's. She would have to know how the asshole looked like of they were working together after all. She was as ugly as she imagined her to be. Like a rat.

  
Detective Reed's face morphed into that of anger, “Then who the phck are you.”   
  
“I my name is Nine Hundred, Connor's sister,” she answered simply. The woman opened her mouth, probably to give her a snide remark, but Nine Hundred politely excused herself to the Captain's office before turning away.   
  
Captain Fowler had apparently already noticed her presence because he waved her in before she could knock the door. Nine Hundred let herself in and took a seat on one of the chairs. She waited patiently as the man sorted through the piles of paper on his desk. Once he finally found what he was looking for, he handed a folder to Nine Hundred.   
  
“These are the cases your brother had been working before he… left,” Fowler explained, hands laced together on his desk as Nine Hundred flipped through them. She had already seen them many times over and could probably recite them like bible quotes if she wanted to. However, she doubted the Captain would appreciate looking like a fool.   
  
“The cases he had left have been split between Reed and his previous partner, Lt Anderson. However, you can find the cases on your terminal as well.” He gestured to an empty desk outside.   
  
Nine Hundred nodded and tucked the folder under her arm. She stood up turned on her heel, saying that she will get started on the cases immediately. However, before she could make it to the door, the Captain called her back, telling her that he was not finished in an irritated tone.   
  
The girl turned back and sat down obediently, tilting her head in a quizzical manner.   
  
“Since you are a new detective, you will be assigned a partner to make sure you don't get in trouble.” Fowler got up. “I know that you have very special training and all that, but we have to follow standard procedure. Didn't they tell you that before you left?”

 

_ Oops _ . She had almost forgot about it. The ingrained haste to get work done quickly and move on had started to get her antsy.   
  
He stuck his head out the door, calling Detective Reed into his office. The detective took a few moments to get onto the office, a scowl on her face but a hint of fear in her eyes. Then, their eyes locked.   
  
Fowler explained briefly that Nine Hundred would be working with the DPD for awhile as the two had a stare down. Steely cold blue ones against furious brown ones.

 

Gwen exclaimed that she was not going to work with some science experiment before being leveled with a stern look from her captain and a threat about rejecting some sort of promotion. He finished what he needed to say before asking the Detective and Nine Hundred to leave his office.   
  
“-but Captain, I don't need a partner and I never have-”    
  
“Didn't I tell you two to get out?” He yelled, slamming his palms on his desk. The man only deflated when Reed huffed and turned on her heel.   
  
Nine Hundred followed behind Reed quietly, not wanting to provoke the captain or Gwen even farther. However, it seemed that she had been a little too quiet because when Nine Hundred had claimed the desk opposite of Gwen's, she startled. The Detective recovered quickly, reigning in her shock before glaring daggers at her new colleague.   
  
“I don't give a shit about what Fowler says,” she began, teeth grinding together, “You will stay the phck outta my way and let me handle my cases.”   
  
“I'm afraid I can't do that, Detective,” Nine Hundred stated, monotone, “Your instructions conflict with my primary-”   
  
“Shut the phuck up, weirdo,” Gwen snapped, nose wrinkling with disgust, “You sound like a phckin machine. Oh! There's an idea. How about you be a good little robot and phck off?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“No?” Gwen echoed, face twisting into a snarl, “I thought you phuckers from FutureLife were supposed to be obedient?”   
  
“So listen here, asshole-” Gwen hoisted Nine Hundred up from her seat, which was extremely awkward because Nine Hundred was a lot taller than her, “-you better stay out of my way or you'll regret it. Now go bring me some coffee.”   
  
Gwen let go of Nine Hundred abruptly, letting the taller girl fall back onto the chair. Nine Hundred studied the Detective's face, trying to figure out whether or not she should ignore her order Eventually, she decided that she did not want to get on the woman's bad side so early and got up. Having a good relationship would help her finish this case sooner and free her to do the job she was supposed to do. Perhaps the detective was simply overwhelmed with the sudden change… hopefully...   
  
As she made her way to the break room, she noted a few people had curiously looked up from where they sat but stayed away. They evidently did not want to get caught in the crossfire. She understood completely.   
  
Nine Hundred started up the coffee machine and made the best coffee she could- which was not very good because she had no idea what the fuck she was doing. The only time she saw a coffee machine being operated was when her handler made some for herself.   
  
Nine Hundred brought the steaming cup back to Gwen. However, judging from all the pitying looks and avoidant eyes, she had a feeling that this was not going to go well. Despite that, she persisted on and presented the cup to Gwen..   
  
The woman scoffed. She picked the cup up and threw it into the trash bin by her desk. The brown liquid spilled over the lip and going to waste. “Go to you desk and do some work, lab rat.”   
  
The taller girl processed what had just happened, lips pulled tightly into a frown. Why had Fowler condemn her this early?   


However, she guessed that the experience would not be as exciting if the officer she worked with did not have an attitude such as Gwen Reed's. Hank Anderson had a similar stance on FutureLife and it's students but had mellowed down after a bit, had he not?

Nine Hundred went back to her desk and pulled out her handphone again and started typing in her task list.

 

Primary Goals:

  * Find and eliminate Connor.
  * Find out what causes deserters to leave.
  * Bring back as many deserters back to FutureLife for memory wipe.



Secondary Goals

  * Befriend Dt. Gwen Reed




End file.
